


Better Safe than Sorry

by gluupor



Series: Better Together [2]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: AFTG Exchange, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - High School, Andrew and Neil knew each other in juvie, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 19:50:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20315059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gluupor/pseuds/gluupor
Summary: Andrew never expected to live this long, he really never expected to have a live-in boyfriend, and hedefinitelynever expected to attract the attention of college exy recruiters.





	Better Safe than Sorry

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cave_canem](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cave_canem/gifts).

> This is a last minute pinch hit for @jsteneil for the summer exchange! You asked for a high school AU, and Kevin and Andrew pre-canon. I hope you enjoy!
> 
> This is a continuation of my fic Better Late than Never, but it stands alone. The only thing you have to know is that Neil and Andrew were in juvie together and then Neil followed Andrew to Columbia.

Andrew was drifting, staring out the window at the barren trees instead of paying the slightest bit of attention to the monotonous drone of his third period History teacher. The late January day was dull and grey; there was no snow on the ground but it remained half-frozen. Everything was brown and dead and desiccated, unaware of the driving rain. He envied the grass its insensibility: its inability to feel anything and then to spring back happy and alive and without trouble as soon as the sun warmed it.

He wondered what Neil wanted for his birthday.

His phone buzzed, dragging him out of his thoughts. He surreptitiously checked it, ensuring that his teacher didn’t catch him doing so. He didn’t care much about following the school’s inane rules but this teacher was known to confiscate phones and, unlike the other whiny teenagers in his class, Andrew had good reason to keep his phone on him at all times.

That reason was texting him now. He wasn’t surprised; Neil seemed to have some kind of sixth sense for when Andrew was being morose and needed to be taken out of his own head. The text was a string of seemingly unrelated emojis, which would have looked like random nonsense to anyone who wasn’t Andrew. He alone had the dubious honour of being allowed to know Neil’s pictographic code. Communicating solely by obscure hieroglyphics was the concession that Andrew had to make in order to get Neil to agree to carry a cell phone.

They’d known each other for almost four years now and Andrew had assumed he understood exactly how paranoid Neil was—he’d spent the first nine months of their acquaintance steadfastly insisting that he had no memory of his past, after all—but being out of the relative safety of juvie had ramped up Neil’s jumpiness. Although, Andrew wasn’t sure he should classify Neil as paranoid—it wasn’t paranoia if you actually had sadistic murderers looking for you.

Snowman, thumbs up, martini glass, monkey face, smiling poop. Neil had gone home because he’d seen someone he recognized; he didn’t think he was in danger and Andrew should stay where he was and cooperate with authorities. Andrew assumed by “authorities” Neil meant school officials, but his code was very limited. It didn’t have signs that meant “do you want to go to the movies?” or “pick up milk on your way home”, it focused on running and survival.

Andrew sighed inaudibly and felt a stab of jealousy. Being an emancipated minor meant that Neil was able to sign himself out of school whenever he wanted. He usually didn’t without good reason (and it wasn’t like Nicky _wouldn’t_ sign Andrew out of school if he asked him to) but sometimes when he took off in the middle of the day like this Andrew couldn’t help but envy him.

He sent back his own string of emojis. A pineapple for acknowledgement, music notes to ask if Neil was injured in any way, and a snowflake to instruct Neil to stay in the house. He hoped Neil would obey the latter. A couple times he’d gotten so spooked that his rational brain had been overtaken by the thought processes of a prey animal and he’d skipped town, once even leaving his phone behind. So far every time that had happened he’d eventually calmed and sheepishly called Andrew to come pick him up. Andrew was beginning to believe that Neil would never willingly leave him behind and would always come back to him.

Before Neil could text him back an eggplant (it meant that he was fine—Andrew had thought to explain _what else_ the eggplant represented, but decided that it amused him more if Neil didn’t know), the school’s PA system crackled to life.

“Andrew Minyard, report to the main office,” was the announcement. “Andrew Minyard, to the main office immediately.”

“Ooooooooh,” said his classmates en masse. He could have sworn that last year they were all too afraid of him to tease. The guidance counsellor had even told Nicky he was joyless and destructive. He blamed Neil for the change; somehow he managed to humanize Andrew in others’ eyes.

“That’s enough,” said their teacher, heading to his desk to write Andrew a hall pass. “Mr. Minyard,” he said, handing it to him.

Andrew slung his backpack over one shoulder and took the pass, heading toward the office. He assumed that this was what Neil was referring to when he told him to cooperate with authorities.

The secretary wordlessly pointed to the vice principal’s office when he arrived. Andrew could see that the door was ajar and that the vice principal looked flustered, facing someone Andrew couldn’t see. She kept wringing her hands together and smoothing her skirt, eyes darting out into the main office.

“There he is,” she said when she caught sight of him. “I’m sorry Mr. Josten couldn’t meet with you as well; he’s home sick today.” She reached out to beckon Andrew closer. He felt dread pool in his stomach as he took the last few dragging footsteps into the small office.

Waiting inside were Kevin Day and Riko Moriyama, their faces instantly recognizable to someone whose boyfriend was as exy obsessed as they came. Andrew tried to maintain indifference to the sport, but the identities of the Princes of Exy pierced through his haze of apathy. Especially since college recruiters had started to come knocking recently, increasing Neil’s talk of the sport.

He tried not to let on that he recognized either of them, understanding instantly why Neil had made himself scarce. Playing exy was dangerous enough for him without coming face to face with boys that he had met before he and his mother had run away. Andrew did wonder why the two teenagers were here alone; if this was a recruitment pitch, shouldn’t it be the Raven’s coach who came to talk to him?

“Mr. Minyard, these are Kevin Day and Riko Moriyama,” said the vice principal with barely concealed anticipation. “They’re here to talk to you.”

“About what,” said Andrew flatly, taking a seat and ignoring the hand that Day held out for him to shake.

“About… about recruiting you and Mr. Josten to the Ravens, of course!” floundered the poor shocked woman.

“No,” said Andrew.

This seemed to momentarily stymy everyone in the room. Day recovered first, his arrogance wrapping around him like a cloak.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said. “We’re the best team in Division I, the best chance you have to make court.”

“I don’t care,” said Andrew. He’d been reluctantly fielding offers from other college teams because he and Neil had no way to pay for higher education otherwise. He had a vague half-formed plan where he and Aaron could pretend to be the same person—Aaron could actually attend school, which he wanted more than anything, and Andrew could handle the exy side of things—but he wasn’t about to entertain any thought of going to the one place where Neil might be recognized. He also wasn’t going to consider going somewhere without Neil.

Day huffed in annoyance. Moriyama, too, looked miffed, although he appeared more predatory and malicious about it. The way Day stiffened slightly when Moriyama shifted in his seat told Andrew more than he wanted to know.

Day started a spiel about what the Ravens could offer him and Neil but before he got very far Andrew cut him off.

“I said no. I don’t want to join your team and neither does Neil.”

“He might say differently.”

“He won’t. Go away.”

Moriyama’s eyes blazed slightly, but his tone was light when he spoke. “There you go, Kevin. I told you they weren’t Raven material. We don't need another striker, anyway.”

“But—” started Day.

“Do you want me to press the issue?” asked Moriyama.

Day faltered. “N—no. Of course not.”

“Then we’re done here,” said Moriyama, standing and sweeping out of the office.

Day paused before following him, giving Andrew one more plea. “You’re making a mistake,” he said. “I assume I’m the first person to ever tell you you’re worth something—”

Andrew scoffed, cutting him off again. “You’re not,” he said. Neil told him all the time, through words, actions, and glances. And Neil’s belief in his worth wasn’t contingent on his abilities in a dumb sport. For some reason that Andrew absolutely didn’t understand Neil looked at him and saw someone amazing.

Day opened and closed his mouth a couple more times before deflating and following Moriyama. Andrew hoped it was the last he ever saw of them.

* * *

“Neil?” he called when he got home. He’d been forced to attend his last class of the day by the disgruntled and irritated vice principal. Apparently she thought that getting a couple students recruited to the Ravens would reflect well on the school and was unhappy with his rudeness. After that, he’d had an appointment with the therapist he was currently trying out.

Neil had been appalled when he’d learned that Andrew hadn’t found a therapist after leaving juvie and moving to Columbia (which Andrew had found to be the most hypocritical thing he’d ever heard—Neil had never spoken with a therapist in his life). Neil had turned his earnest and soft eyes on Andrew, reminding him about how much the therapist at juvie had helped him and it hadn’t taken long before Andrew had given in and agreed to try to find a new one. He’d gone through nine so far, unable to find one that fit.

“Kitchen,” Neil called back, making the tension he’d been carrying leave his shoulders immediately.

Neil was sitting on the counter, eating handfuls of goldfish crackers from the box and swinging his legs, knocking his heels into the lower cupboard rhythmically.

“What did Riko and Kevin have to say?” he asked through a mouthful of orange mush. It didn’t do anything to mask his unease.

“They wanted to recruit us to the Ravens.”

Neil’s eyebrows rose. “We’re not good enough for the Ravens—well, you are,” he conceded after a beat. “You’re the best.”

Andrew rolled his eyes, ignoring the thrill that went through him every time Neil said something like that to him.

“But you’re definitely not obsessed enough for them,” he said. He chewed his lower lip thoughtfully. “Do you think they know who I am?”

“They gave no indication of being overly interested in you,” Andrew reassured him. “Don’t worry.” He approached the counter and slotted himself between Neil’s legs, leaning forward to bury his face against Neil’s chest to breathe him in.

“Can’t help it,” said Neil, threading his non-goldfish-cracker-dust-covered hand through Andrew’s hair.

“Nicky and Aaron are out?” Andrew checked. Although they were perfectly aware that Andrew and Neil shared a bed, he didn’t like displaying their relationship in front of them (or in front of anybody). He hadn’t planned on coming out to them so soon, but Neil’s presence had forced the issue. He knew it bothered Aaron, based on his snide comments.

Overall Neil’s presence had actually helped Andrew’s relationship with his brother. Mainly because he gave Aaron someone other than Andrew to focus his ire on. Neil was also a tireless and staunch defender of Andrew, which had the added benefit of Nicky and Aaron understanding him and his motivations better without Andrew ever having to explain himself.

Neil and Aaron spent most of their time sniping at each other and making rude comments. Andrew suspected that they both actually enjoyed doing so more than either one would admit. He also suspected that they’d spoken to each other about their mothers—Andrew couldn’t understand how both of them still loved such objectively terrible women.

“Nicky’s got a shift at Sweetie’s and Aaron’s also at work,” replied Neil. Aaron and Andrew had both snagged part-time jobs bussing tables and washing dishes at the nearest Waffle House. Nicky’s plan to get them all jobs at the club called Eden’s Twilight had fallen through—the night that they were supposed to go talk to his friend’s friend had been the night that Neil had shown up and thrown their plans out of whack. It was probably for the best, though. According to Nicky a group of homophobes had caused a lot of trouble that same night, even setting a fire after nobody stopped them from beating up a couple club patrons. Instead, Nicky had secured a second job at Starbucks.

Neil had managed to get a job at Excites, impressing the sales manager with his knowledge and enthusiasm about the sport. Andrew still couldn’t believe that he’d gotten a legitimate job that depended on being a junkie and trying to peddle his drug of choice.

“Hmmmm,” said Andrew thoughtfully, leaning back a little. “What can we do in a house by ourselves?” He used the strings on Neil’s hoodie to drag him down into a kiss.

* * *

“That’s it guys! Good work today,” said their school exy coach as he waved them off the court at the end of practice. “Josten! Minyard! There’s someone here to see you!”

Their teammates groaned and headed to the locker rooms, Aaron sending a look of pure jealousy over his shoulder.

“Both Minyards!” called their coach as Aaron started walking away.

Aaron started in surprise, but joined Andrew and Neil to wait for their coach to bring over their visitor. He looked overwhelmed; Andrew and Neil had been approached several times and were weighing a couple offers but no one had included Aaron in their recruitment pitch. Andrew thought they were all blind; Aaron had been training with him and Neil for months now, ever since the school’s guidance counsellor told him that his problems the year before had affected his grades enough that there was no chance he could win an academic scholarship. He’d improved exponentially and was now a solid backliner.

“Try not to say anything,” Neil said in an undertone to Aaron. “You don’t want to let them know how much of an asshole you are _before_ they offer you anything.”

“Fuck you,” muttered Aaron, but it didn’t sound like his heart was in it. He smoothed his hair nervously as their exy coach approached, trailed by an unknown man.

He was big and gruff-looking, with two full sleeves of tattoos. Neil stiffened at his approach—the way he did with all men of a certain size—taking an automatic step back to stay out of his reach. Andrew positioned himself between the stranger and his family.

The man’s eyes took in their reactions and he nodded to himself, appearing satisfied. “Hello,” he said. “My name is David Wymack. I’m the coach of the Palmetto State Foxes and I have an offer for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I can be found on tumblr [@gluupor](http://gluupor.tumblr.com).


End file.
